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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332065">make a mercy out of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight'>DrowningInStarlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Campaign (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Burza Nyth, Fluff, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Other, Wild Hunt, the "quick kiss me so people don't find us" trope, the intimacy of both being cursed, truly a staple of the skyjacks universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:20:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a storm over Burza Nyth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>OC/OC, Robin Rose/Percy Wright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>make a mercy out of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey!!! these are my skyjacks ocs!!! they're silly and gay and i love them. also i couldn't find a way to work it into this fic but robin is trans as well. in fact, ive never written a cis character in my LIFE. </p><p>title from curses by the crane wives!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As always, Robin Rose dreams of the water. </p><p>In his dream, he’s standing at the riverbank again, staring out at the stars reflected in its surface. There aren’t many places to see the stars back there where he’d grown up, the trees dense and evergreen in the eternal summer, but you could always see them along the river’s edge. </p><p>It changes, this dream, but tonight his hands are covered in furnace soot, the sword he holds still pristine, glittering steel. There are orchids engraved on the blade, birds stitched into the leather of the hilt grip. It’s beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever made. </p><p> </p><p>But he doesn’t feel any regret as he throws it into the water. It sinks without a sound, without a ripple. The dream fades, slowly, but he wakes with the soft sounds of water in his ears.</p><p> </p><p>— </p><p> </p><p>This story, like so many others, begins in the clouds. But only for a moment. Then the skyship Chanterelle dips below them, and bursts out into the clear skies triumphantly. </p><p>“Land ahoy!” someone yells, and Robin Rose pauses in his clambering of the forward lines and follows their pointing finger. The city of Burza Nyth glitters on the horizon. It’s a big city, bigger than anywhere else Robin has ever been. He knows that shows on his face as he grips the ropes tighter with his numb fingers and leans forward, eyes wide. The walls of the city tower into the air, draped in banners and flowers that he doesn’t recognise. He’s sure that everyone else on the ship has seen this sight before, but for just a moment, the frantic activity that proceeds docking slows as everyone takes it in. </p><p>“We did it, crew,” the captain roars from the deck, loud enough that Robin can still hear her, from all the way up in the rigging. Her hair is blowing wild in the autumn breeze, but her feet are planted firmly on the deck. “On the final stretch now! Then it’s Aur Piora and everything you could ever desire!” </p><p>People cheer and whoop in response, and Robin watches them all slip back into action, lowering sails and untangling ropes. He starts to join them, reaching up for the next of the guidelines, but it takes him several moments before he can bring himself to take his eyes off the city. </p><p> </p><p>— </p><p> </p><p>Once the ship is moored and Robin’s standing down on the bustling dock, though, he can’t help looking back. </p><p>The Chanterelle is huge, one of the biggest ships in port. It’s old, too, the paint faded and flaking. Robin hadn’t chosen to work on it deliberately. He’d just been looking for any way out of town, after— Well. After the river. But now, he realises he probably made a lucky decision. The Chanterelle is a cargo ship, but not like the ones that are part of the Syndicate. It carries <em>griffins.</em> He’d never seen a griffin before, not up close, but now he cleans them and feeds them and flies them when the ship is in the sky. A far cry from life on a red feather ship. Perhaps the Luminaries <em>are</em> on his side. </p><p>Here, the Chanterelle looks like just one more beautiful, ancient thing in a world of beautiful and ancient things. There are people everywhere, more people than Robin’s ever seen in one place before. Some of them glance at him as they pass. He wonders if he looks like a skyjack yet, or whether they can see the way he stumbles. Just a blacksmith’s apprentice running away from home to play at being an airiner. </p><p>“Hey!” someone says behind him, and he jumps as he feels a hand on his arm. He looks round, and sees the person standing at his side. They're taller than he is, which to be fair, most people are. Their hair is dark, pulled back and tied low with a blue ribbon. The thing that grabs everyone’s attention, however, is their low cut dress, displaying plainly and proudly the tattoo of a black lily curling elegantly across their collarbone and round their neck. </p><p>“Percy,” Robin exhales in relief. “Lumins, you scared me.” </p><p>They grin at him. “I know Burza Nyth’s bigger than where you grew up—” </p><p>“Most places are!” </p><p>“—but it’s not going to eat you.” </p><p>“Do you promise,” Robin says, deadpanning until he catches Percy’s eye, and then he cracks. All at once, they’re both laughing. Robin can feel his cheeks go warm as Percy takes his arm. It’s a Black Lily thing, he knows, but they aren’t working right now, so maybe it’s just a Percy thing, too. </p><p>“Come on, Mx Rose,” they say brightly. “Let’s go and find whatever inn the dear captain has decided to stow us rowdy crewmates in this time.” </p><p> </p><p>— </p><p> </p><p>A perk of being one of the few independent griffin dealers is, apparently, getting invitations to the Roost on the eve of Aur Piora. The pub is alive with people, racers and jousters and sponsors mingling. The atmosphere is electric, the upcoming competition hovering in the back of everyone’s minds. </p><p>Robin is having an <em>excellent</em> time. Perhaps that’s more to do with the finest ale that Burza Nyth has to offer than anything else, but everything feels fun and exciting and far less terrifying than it had earlier that day. He’s played a number of rounds of illimat— Okay, he’s <em>lost</em> a number of rounds of illimat, to a man with silver hair, then— then he’d lost several more to a bird? </p><p>Perhaps he’s drunk more than he thought he had. </p><p>“I’m gonna go outside for a moment,” he says, but no one seems to hear him. That’s okay. </p><p>He stumbles out into the street outside. It’s colder here than he’s used to. It was always warm and summery in Merrowmere, but Burza Nyth is deep in the embrace of autumn. The stars dot the dark sky, few and far between in the deep orangey-black. It reminds him, for a moment, of a nightmare he has sometimes. One he’s had more and more often since desperately fleeing his home. </p><p>He sits down on the edge of the pavement. He feels slightly dizzy. He’s probably not even that drunk, really, but it’s still more than he’s ever had before. He knows that if he was in the forge, he wouldn’t be able to use the tools properly, and that makes him feel bad somehow. That used to be the thing he was good at. More than that. Making things used to be the thing that he <em>was.</em> </p><p>But he’d risked that from moment he’d first wandered down the riverbank in the golden sunshine and listened to the water sing, and then he’d lost it when he’d gone back. It hadn’t been involuntary. It wasn’t an addiction, or a compulsion, it was just… Sometimes, you make friends who aren’t good for you. </p><p>So he’d left. He’d left, and now all he has is an old curse, a recurring nightmare, and his own two hands.</p><p>“Does this make me a sad drunk?” he mumbles. “I think this makes me a sad drunk.” </p><p>Another gust of wind howls down the street, and he pulls his coat closer around his shoulders, brushing his hair out of his face. Suddenly, everything smells of the sea. </p><p>He’s too cold to sit still, so he gets up and wanders up the dark street, following the wind. The street ends high up on the wall, the only thing separating the cobbles from the long fall to the angry sea below an intricate metal railing. </p><p>Percy’s there, leaning against the railing. The wind has torn their hair from its ribbon, and it flies around their face. Robin approaches slowly, trying to see what they’re staring at. There’s nothing out there in the night sky, just the clouds racing along with the wind. The wind almost sounds like voices as it blows through the city, like vicious joyous laughter. It makes him shiver. </p><p>Before he can call out to Percy, they turn, seeming to sense his presence. Their eyes look greyer than Robin’s ever seen them, distant, and there are tear tracks on their face. He wants, fuzzily, to make them feel better— it’s so unusual to see Percy hurting that it’s almost shocking. They take a step back when they see him, until they’re against the railing. There’s something that Robin can’t quite decipher on their face, surprise and guilt and fear, like they’ve been caught doing something forbidden. Like they think he’s going to reject them or cast them out. Because of… Robin doesn’t know what because of.</p><p>Thunder rolls. </p><p>He moves forward, holding his hand out to them clumsily. They stare at him, and the thunder rolls again, the lightning flashing at almost the same instant. The storm is right on top of them now. Percy looks like a wild thing, like some creature of the storm, and every instinct in him is telling him to be afraid. </p><p>But he’d never had much common sense. Robin Rose had stood on the bank of the river and held out his hand to the Rusalka herself because she had looked hurt. Like she needed help. Now, on the stormswept streets of Burza Nyth, his hand doesn’t shake as he holds it out to Percy Wright.  </p><p>They raise their own hand, slowly, uncertainly— but before they can take his hand in theirs, there are shouts from down the street, and the sound of heavy boots on cobbles. </p><p>“Red feathers,” Robin says, almost shouting over the wind. Percy’s face pales. </p><p>“Oh, gods,” they say, and Robin’s almost surprised when they sound… normal. Like the person that he’s known for months as they’ve travelled through the sky together. “They can’t find me, I’m still on the wanted list.” </p><p>“The what?” </p><p>“You know,” Percy says. “People they want to capture. Like Black Lilies. We aren’t exactly <em>popular</em> with the Syndicate. But especially me—” </p><p>Robin grabs their hand and pulls them across the street. When he touches them, he jumps— static shock. Somewhere out in the distant ocean, lightning strikes again. Thunder follows a moment afterwards, and Robin chooses an alley at random and hurtles into it. </p><p>The wind drops the moment they step between the shelter of the houses, and Percy stops suddenly, tugging them both to a halt, hidden in the shadow against the wall. </p><p>“Listen,” they whisper, and Robin does. There are sounds from the further end, the same boots and loud conversation. They don’t sound like they’re actively searching. It’s probably just a routine patrol. But they are undoubtedly coming this way. </p><p>“What do we do?” Robin hisses. Percy’s looking up at the sky again, and they tear their eyes away to meet his own. </p><p>“I—” they say, “I don’t have enough power—” </p><p>Robin makes a snap decision. Percy’s standing with their back to the wall, and he steps up in front of them, and gently puts his hands on their bare shoulders. They’re so close he can feel their breathing. </p><p>“I wouldn’t ask this of you,” Percy says, ever so quietly. Lightning strikes, lighting the alley up for the briefest second. </p><p>“You’re not,” Robin says, when darkness returns, his hands slipping down from their shoulders so they’re resting on their forearms. “I’m offering.” </p><p>He leans up and kisses them, soft and warm in the cold of the autumn storm. </p><p>The air turns electric around them, and Percy’s eyes go wide. They take his hands, and they still feel like static electricity, just a little. The red feather soldiers burst into view, laughing and gesturing with the bottles in their hands. Robin doesn’t breathe as the soldiers pass, unable to see them. Percy grips tight to his hands. </p><p>Then they’re gone, and the alley is silent and dark again. Robin’s heart is beating fast, and he feels more alive than he has in a long time. Drunk on the ale and how much he wants to kiss Percy again. </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Then, another thought strikes him. His curse. “Oh gods,” he says. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” </p><p>Percy looks worried, the pale starlight illuminating them faintly, and they drop his hands. “That’s what I was trying to warn you about,” they say. “I know I get power from intimacy, but that doesn’t mean you <em>need</em> to, I could have found something else—” </p><p>“Oh, no, no,” Robin says, “No, that’s not what I meant—” </p><p>Percy looks at him. “What do you mean?” </p><p>“I don’t know how much you know about why I left Merrowmere.” </p><p>“You lost a friend,” Percy says softly. “Someone you couldn’t save. I felt that much just now.” </p><p>“Yeah, that’s…  It’s complicated, but I. The important thing is, I’m cursed— I’m marked by the sea. By my river, where it meets the ocean next to where I grew up, and I don’t… What if I’ve doomed you?” </p><p>“You think just a kiss would be enough to do that?” </p><p>Robin laughs. “Don’t pretend,” he tells them, “That you couldn’t tell. What if I’ve doomed you just by loving—” he cuts himself off sharply. “I think I’ve had too much ale,” he adds in a murmur. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Don’t be,” Percy says. “You don’t need to be sorry, Robin. And I don’t think that you need to worry. I think your river would have to fight to get me.” </p><p>Robin looks at them. There’s still an edge of fear in their eyes, but mostly it’s just warm, genuine fondness. It makes his cheeks go red. “What…?” </p><p>“Can you hear them, in the storm?” they ask. “One day, I’ll join them again in their wild hunt. Back to the sky.” Their mouth twists wryly. Their lipstick is black, and it’s smudged a little from where... Well. “I guess that makes us two of a kind.” </p><p>“But in, like, opposite directions,” Robin says distantly. “Hey, Percy, I think I’m in love with you.” </p><p>“Tell me that again,” they say, putting a hand on his cheek. “In the morning, when we’re both not drunk.” </p><p>“I will,” he promises. “And again. For however long we both walk this earth.” </p><p>“My dearest Rose,” they say. “I couldn’t possibly argue with that.” </p><p>Over the city of Burza Nyth, it starts to rain.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come talk to me about skyjacks ocs at my tumblr <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/drowninginstarlights">drowninginstarlights!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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